The harsh morning sunlight pierced through the high-ceiling windows, directly hitting my face.

  I groaned, my head pounding with a violent, toxic headache from the cheap club vodka. Beside me, Gaby was dead to the world, sleeping heavily under the tangled sheets. The hangover had clearly hit her much harder than me. It couldn't be helped; I had encouraged her to take way too many shots st night just so she would put on a show for my friends.

  I dragged myself out of bed and walked into the cold kitchen. I started boiling water to make two mugs of dark hot cocoa. As the quiet sanity of the morning slowly settled over my mind, a sickening, bitter wave of regret filled my chest.

  How far am I going to fall? How far down this dark, twisted path am I going to drag this innocent girl?

  I took a small sip of the bitter cocoa, leaning heavily against the marble isnd. "I need to make breakfast for her," I muttered to the empty room. It wasn't an act of love. It was a transaction. Pure, suffocating guilt was forcing me to py the role of the perfect boyfriend to bance out how terribly I was using her body.

  I pulled a carton of eggs and thick strips of bacon from the fridge and started frying them up.

  "Morning…"

  A weak, raspy voice echoed from the hallway. Gaby shuffled out of the bedroom. Her dark hair was a mess, and she was whimpering softly, pressing the heels of her hands against her temples.

  "Morning, babe. Here. I made you some hot cocoa to ease the hangover," I said smoothly, pulling out a barstool for her.

  "Thank you, baby." She took a cautious sip of the hot drink. I turned around and set the steaming pte of eggs and bacon down in front of her.

  Her brown eyes widened in absolute shock. "Baby…"

  I walked around the isnd, kissed the top of her head, and sat down across from her. "What’s wrong, babe? Eat up. I know you like bacon. Enjoy it." I fshed her my warmest, most practiced smile.

  Suddenly, her eyes filled with tears. She completely ignored the food. She stood up, walked around the counter, and climbed directly into my p, throwing her arms tightly around my neck.

  "Thank you," she whimpered, her voice breaking as she began to openly sob against my shoulder.

  "Hey, what’s wrong? It’s just a simple breakfast," I chuckled, gently rubbing her spine.

  "No… it's not just the food," she cried, holding onto me like a lifeline. "You are always so incredibly caring to me. You cook for me every single day. You even bought me all those expensive clothes yesterday just so I wouldn't feel out of pce. With you... I finally feel like I'm not completely alone."

  Her innocent words were like razor bdes.

  They sliced cleanly through my defenses, violently triggering the massive, agonizing void inside my chest. I hugged her tight, burying my face in her shoulder, and the dam completely broke. Hot, pathetic tears spilled from my eyes, soaking into the fabric of her shirt.

  I feel so fucking lonely without you, Jess. I love you so much. Please come back.

  After a long, heavy minute, Gaby pulled back from my embrace. Her brown eyes searched my wet, tear-stained face.

  "Daeron? What happened?" she asked, her eyebrows knitting together in deep, loving concern. "Are you crying? Have you been lonely too?"

  "… Yes," I choked out. I took a deep, shuddering breath, violently shoving the ghost of my ex-girlfriend back down into the dark. I forced the charming mask back over my face. "But you’re here now. Let’s make some great memories together, babe."

  She smiled so brightly it almost hurt to look at her. Her eyes radiated pure, blinding warmth—a horrifying contrast to the dead, hollow gaze I was hiding behind my mask. She leaned in and kissed me. It was sloppy from the tears, but incredibly gentle.

  "Okay. Let’s eat our breakfast now, baby."

  *

  After that morning, our life fell into a terrifyingly normal domestic rhythm. We divided up the household roles. I acted as the primary cook— meticulously stocking the freezer with premium cuts of steak just to keep her happy—and she meticulously cleaned the loft.

  We spent most of our afternoons in the mini-library. We actually used it for its intended purpose, quietly studying for our upcoming Spring semester exams.

  It was during one of these study sessions that a massive secret finally came to light. It turned out my brilliant, maniputive 'Pick-Up Artist' routine in the library had been a complete failure. Gaby had known from the start that I was just a freshman. We had actually sat in the same general ed lecture hall back in the Fall semester. When I had approached her table pretending to be a cool, older sophomore using Boris's advanced notes, she had seen right through my bullshit.

  But her innocence had saved my cover. Instead of seeing a pathological liar hunting for a rebound, she thought I was just a sweet, nervous guy doing a "cute act" to find an excuse to talk to her. She completely fell for the romance of it, and she loved to pyfully roast me about my fake notes from time to time.

  I couldn't believe it. I had btantly lied to her, and she just smiled and accepted it. It was almost too easy.

  On the surface, we were the perfect college couple. It was a pleasant, deeply romantic dream. At least for her.

  Behind closed doors, the dream turned into a violent blur. Our sex life was relentlessly, aggressively wild. I had tasted and explored every single inch of her body, using her physical reactions to numb my own brain. She didn't just tolerate the hard, rough pace; she became completely addicted to the intensity. We completely destroyed the bedroom. Some nights, we had sex until she literally passed out against the pillows from sheer physical exhaustion.

  It was wild. It was passionate. It was everything a guy was supposed to want. At least for her.

  But what about me? When she fell asleep and the room went quiet, I still felt completely, terrifyingly hollow.

  **

  May 2012. The Spring semester was officially over. I hadn't registered for a single Summer Session, leaving me staring down the barrel of three and a half months of dead, empty time.

  My original pn had been to flee to Denmark, desperately needing to escape the city that reminded me so much of her. But a quick FaceTime call killed that idea. My parents and Julian were spending the entire summer in Birmingham with my aunt’s pretentious family. I couldn't stand being around them, so I chose the lesser of two evils. I stayed in Chicago.

  My only lifeline was the Russian crew. Nikoy, Boris, and Andrew were all staying in the city. In a bizarre, almost comical twist, all three of the notorious Draufg?ngers had actually secured respectable summer internships and jobs for their resumes. But the second they clocked out, the underground parties were still on their schedule.

  As for my home life, Gaby had enrolled in summer csses. She was officially living in the loft full-time. At least the apartment wouldn't feel like a completely silent, haunted tomb.

  Beep-click.

  The deadbolt turned, and the heavy metal door swung open.

  "Baby! I’m home!" Gaby's sweet, cheerful voice echoed off the high industrial ceilings.

  I closed my eyes. Even now, after months of pying house with a new girl, a sick, pathetic part of my brain still instinctively waited to hear the word "Tiger." I swallowed the ghost down and forced a smile. "Welcome back, babe. I’m in the kitchen."

  "Baby! Why are you putting the groceries away without me?" She dropped her heavy backpack by the entryway and hurried over to the marble isnd.

  I chuckled, closing the refrigerator door. "So we could have a little more free time this afternoon, babe."

  "Why?" she asked, tilting her head.

  "Because I'm taking you out for a real dinner tonight. I already called and reserved a table."

  "What?!" Her brown eyes widened in absolute, innocent shock. "Really?"

  I nodded smoothly. "Yes. Go pick out which dress you want to wear tonight while I finish cleaning up here."

  She squealed happily, kissed my cheek, and hurried toward our bedroom.

  I leaned heavily against the counter, staring at the wall. Don’t get me wrong, I was trying to make it work with her. I desperately wanted to reignite the spark that had died inside my chest. I refused to live this hollow, numb existence all summer. But simple, domestic romance wasn't working. I needed a violent shock to my system. I needed sensation.

  To be perfectly honest, I was actually itching for Nikoy to throw a wild club party. I needed the adrenaline of public exhibitionism. I needed the raw recognition of the crowd to prove I was still alive.

  Since there was no party tonight, I was going to have to manufacture the adrenaline myself.

  **

  At 8:00 PM, I pulled my car up to the valet stand of one of the most exclusive, high-end restaurants in downtown Chicago.

  I walked around the hood and opened the passenger door. Gaby stepped out, and she looked absolutely lethal. We had gone shopping st week to celebrate the end of her exams, and I had meticulously selected this specific outfit for her. I wanted her dressed up, looking sophisticated... and highly accessible.

  She was wearing a sleek, bck silk dress with daringly low, open sides that exposed the perfect, bare curves of her hips. She wore her thick, dark hair down, framing her flushed face perfectly. It was an absolute feast for my eyes. I couldn't wait to completely devour her ter... preferably right here at the restaurant.

  "You look absolutely gorgeous, babe," I murmured, my hand slipping securely around her bare waist.

  She giggled nervously, her cheeks burning red under the streetlights. "You’ve already said that four times in the car, baby. And you look incredibly handsome and hot yourself."

  I smirked at her, my thumb tracing the bare skin of her hip. I could tell by her shallow breathing and dited pupils that she was already highly aroused. It made me want to skip the expensive dinner entirely and get straight to the main "dish."

  After speaking with the ma?tre d', we were guided away from the crowded, noisy main floor. The hostess led us down a quiet, dimly lit hallway and seated us at a secluded, private table tucked away behind heavy velvet curtains.

  Gaby’s eyes were brimming with pure, innocent excitement as she took in the crystal gsses and the luxurious ambiance. She had never experienced a fine-dining date like this before. She thought I was treating her like a princess.

  During our meal, I pyed the perfect gentleman. We engaged in pleasant, easy banter over the appetizers and the wine. She was mostly focused on the incredible food and the romantic atmosphere.

  But my mind was entirely focused on the shadows of our private booth, calcuting exactly how I was going to pull her dress aside the moment the waiter cleared our ptes.

  "So... I hope you're enjoying the night," I murmured smoothly, swirling the expensive red wine in my gss.

  "Baby! I absolutely love it!" Gaby beamed, her brown eyes sparkling under the dim, romantic lighting of the private booth. "But... you know you don’t have to do all this fancy stuff for me, right? I would be perfectly fine just having a normal dinner at home."

  She reached across the pristine white tablecloth, her small, warm hand gently covering mine. "As long as I can spend time with you, I’ll always be happy, Daeron."

  The air was violently sucked out of my lungs.

  A sharp, agonizing sting pierced straight through my ribs. Her innocent words didn't make me feel loved; they made me feel sick. Because they were my words. That was the exact same blind, desperate devotion I had poured out to Jessica for six months. I gripped Gaby's hand tighter, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of my neck.

  "Thank you, babe," I managed to choke out, my charming mask slipping. "I’m happy to hear that."

  She giggled, completely oblivious to the panic attack building in my chest. "Honestly, even if we just sat around eating cheap french fries in the mini-library all day, I'd still be the happiest girl in the world!"

  I forced a hollow chuckle, desperate to keep the conversation light. "You really love spending time in that corner, don't you?"

  She smiled, a look of pure, unadulterated love crossing her face. "Of course! That’s our sanctuary, isn’t it?"

  Sanctuary.

  The word echoed in my skull like a gunshot. The entire room seemed to tilt on its axis.

  The balcony is our sanctuary. That was the exact phrase I had used to describe my retionship with Jessica.

  The horrifying puzzle pieces finally snapped together. History was repeating itself with fwless, terrifying precision, but the roles were completely reversed. Gaby was pying the role of Daeron—the innocent, blindly devoted, pathetic loser who thought love was enough. And I was pying the role of Jessica—the maniputive, emotionally detached monster who was using a good person to hide a dirty secret.

  My stomach curled so hard I thought I was going to throw up. All the predatory lust and adrenaline I had manufactured for this date instantly evaporated into pure self-hatred.

  Oh my God. I have become Jessica.

  "What’s wrong, babe?" Gaby’s voice pulled me out of the spiral. Her bright smile vanished, repced by deep concern as she looked at my pale, cmmy face.

  "Nothing. It’s j—"

  "Shall we just go back home tonight?" she cut me off gently. It was highly unusual for her to take the lead like that, but she was incredibly perceptive. She knew the spell was broken.

  "Yeah," I whispered, my voice completely devoid of charm. "Let’s head back."

  I fgged down the waiter, threw my credit card onto the bill, and escorted her out of the restaurant. I had completely ruined her special night, and I had ruined my own distraction.

  *

  The drive back to the loft was suffocatingly, agonizingly silent.

  I stared bnkly at the road, my grip white-knuckled on the steering wheel. Why? My brain spiraled in the agonizing silence. Everything was supposed to be fun tonight! I just wanted to reignite a single spark of adrenaline in this endless, numb void! Why does everything I touch turn into a fucking nightmare?!

  I parked the car in the basement garage. We took the elevator up and unlocked the heavy door to the loft. I stepped inside, expecting her to head straight to the bathroom to take off her makeup.

  Instead, Gaby stopped in the entryway. She reached out and held my hand gently.

  "Can we talk, Daeron?"

  Fuck. No. Not again

  My heart smmed against my ribs. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the impact. I was utterly terrified. This was it. This was the moment she was going to tell me she saw through my bullshit. She was going to tell me she knew I was hollow. She was going to pack her bags and leave me completely alone in this tomb, just like Jessica did.

  Suddenly, I felt the soft, warm palm of her hand cup my cheek.

  "Baby," she whispered, her voice fierce and steady. "Look at me. No matter what is going on in your head right now... I am not going to leave you."

  I slowly opened my eyes. She was looking up at me with absolute, unwavering loyalty. Her warm, unconditional promise managed to pierce through the thick ice of my panic, offering a pathetic, desperate shred of comfort. I didn't deserve it, but I needed it.

  "Come on," she said softly, tugging my hand toward the bedroom. "Let’s get comfortable first."

  After we washed up and changed into our sweatpants, Gaby gently grabbed my hand. Instead of leading me to the bedroom, she guided me into the quiet corner of the mini-library.

  We sat down on the floor cushions, facing each other. She reached behind a row of heavy textbooks and pulled out a small, pin white notebook. It looked like a private diary.

  "Do you know anything about this book?" she asked, her voice incredibly soft.

  "No," I frowned, my eyes tracking the object in her hands. "I've never seen that before."

  She offered a small, mencholic smile. "Here. I think you need to read it."

  She handed the book across the table. It was entirely bnk except for two words handwritten in bck ink across the center: ad infinitum.

  I opened the cover to the first page.

  The moment my eyes registered the curves and snts of the handwriting, the air was violently sucked out of my lungs. I knew that handwriting. I knew exactly who the book belonged to. A sharp, agonizing pain erupted behind my ribs, spreading through my chest like wildfire.

  "I found that a week ago," Gaby whispered into the heavy silence.

  I slowly raised my head to look at her, my hands shaking. A week ago? My stomach violently turned over. She had known for an entire week. Every time we had wild, punishing sex over the st seven days, she knew I was completely broken. She knew I was mourning another girl, and she had still let me use her body to numb my pain.

  "I learned what happened to you," she continued, her brown eyes lowering to the floorboards. "I understand why you've been acting the way you do. It must be so incredibly hard for you, Daeron."

  "… Yes," I managed to whisper, my voice completely hollow.

  She leaned across the table, closing the distance between us. "But... let’s give us a chance, baby."

  "Gaby—" I tried to stop her, the guilt threatening to crush my windpipe.

  "I’m right here, baby," she interrupted gently. She shifted forward, crawling onto my p and wrapping her arms fiercely around my neck. "I’ll never leave you in the dark like that."

  I closed my eyes, a single, hot tear slipping down my cheek. It hurt. It hurt so incredibly much. But the pain wasn't just from the diary. It was the sickening realization that I had taken a sweet, innocent freshman and turned her into a martyr. I had trapped her inside my cage purely for my own selfish benefit, using her unconditional love as a shield to chase away the loneliness of this haunted apartment.

  And the worst part? Even with this beautiful, devoted girl sitting right here in my arms... I still refused to let the ghost go. I didn’t want the ghost to leave.

  Because the words written on that first page were staring up at me. The ink was slightly smeared, the paper wrinkled by several distinct, dried tear spots.

  Daeron,

  I hate myself for leaving you like this. Please, forgive me. You told me how you felt, over and over, and I stayed silent. Not because I didn't feel it, but because I knew this day would come, and I wanted to protect you from it. You deserve so much more than a ghost.

  Read this book. It has all my secrets, and every beautiful memory we made together. Let it be the closure you need to finally move on from me.

  Farewell, Tiger. I love you. I always have.

  — J

  I love you. I always have. Andrew was right. It wasn't a game. It wasn't a lie. She actually loved me.

  I wrapped my arms around Gaby, hugging her tight against my chest as my heart shattered all over again. I stared bnkly at the wall over her shoulder. I wasn't sure of my own sanity anymore. How could I possibly love someone else when I was still anchored to the past?

  Are you really not going to come back to me, Jess?

  I buried my face in Gaby's dark hair, inhaling deeply to ground myself in reality. "Thank you, Gaby," I whispered, holding onto the repcement while silently mourning the original.

  **